


Honor Thy Father

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [21]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Discipline, M/M, Standing in the Corner, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-06
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 20: Standing in the corner.  Dean’s fuckup nearly gets them thrown out of town, and John’s Emmy award winning acting not only gets them out, but turns the boys on...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honor Thy Father

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

Sam gently, carefully, _legally_ guides the Impala back to the hotel room. Dad was going to be _pissed_. Dean hit on the wrong person in the bar – the sheriff’s daughter, and any minute now the sheriff is coming by to “escort” them out of town. Correction, Dad is going to kill both of them, but at least Sam will get to watch Dean die first. The irony that Dean wouldn’t have actually done anything with the waitress is not lost on either of them.

Sam hustles Dean inside, spills the beans. John stands, takes a deep breath. He’s done this before with Dean, some fancy acting might get them out of it, but he’s not sure if Sam can handle it.

“Dean, you know what to do.”

“Dad…”

“NOW!”

Even though Sam knew the man was going to yell, he jumps. Dean literally drags his feet, moving away. John’s got hold of Sam’s arm.

“Might be able to take care of this, Sam, if you’ll play along. Do as I ask?”

“Yeah – cruiser pulled in up there at the office, Dad.”

“No problem – Dean, I mean it –“ John takes the Gideon Bible from the nightstand, lays it at the foot of the bed, flipping it open to Ephesians 6. “Sam, just kneel down there, make like you’re reading, and for God’s sake keep your mouth shut. Take off your belt, lay it next to the book. And Sam? You’re invisible until I open that motel room door.” He stalks away, Sam shrugs and obeys. His pants droop as he kneels. Gonna try to make it look like he’s being punished, well, they’ve tried crazier things. He hears Dean _whining_ , of all things, and looks up.

“Dad, do I have to-“

Sam looks curiously to see that Dean is standing in the corner, and he smothers a snicker. And then John reaches around, unbuttons Dean’s bluejeans to yank them down, takes off his own belt. Holy shit. He watches, fascinated, not quite able to hear John’s low voice, but there’s no mistaking the tone – he’s pissed. John looks over his shoulder at Sam’s wide eyes.

“Sam, let me know when they come out of the office.”

“Y-yessir,” he stammers. Their room is just in sight of the motel office, and John knows perfectly well what Sam can see from his position. John busies himself zipping up their bags – they can be gone in five minutes, if necessary - then opens a folder, scatters the contents across the table. Sam spots the sheriff coming out, alerts his father to it. John strides back across the room, and his belt comes cracking down over Dean’s backside.

Sam’s fighting with himself for control because it’s got to be the fucking hottest thing he’s ever seen, Dean with his hands laced behind his head, leaned forward into the corner so that he’s supported by his elbows. John’s yelling now, the scathing scolding he’d expected to hear when they walked in, punctuated with lashes from John’s stiff leather belt. There are three impressive welts on Dean’s ass as the knock comes on the door.

“DAMMIT!” comes the furious yell from John Winchester. He stalks over, yanks the door open. Sam barely tears his eyes from the mesmerizing sight of Dean.

“Officer,” comes the milder tone from John.

“I’m looking for two boys. They’ve made a couple of big mistakes, and I expect to see them out of town.”

“My sons,” John replies scathingly. “Don’t suppose you’d give me time to finish the lecture, see if it’ll sink in.”

The officer raises an eyebrow, and John lets the door drift open enough to show Sam, docilely kneeling. “I don’t like trouble in my town,” comes the reply.

“Sir, I apologize for my boys, sometimes they forget their place. We’re passing through on our way to Kansas, stopped here to look up some records for the family genealogy. Afraid my oldest boy doesn’t take family as serious as he ought.”

“You can say that again. They’re both here… Mr. Browning?”

John shakes hands, and the door drifts open all the way, revealing Dean. “Please, call me John.”

The sheriff chuckles to himself, and Sam reminds himself to breathe.

“Well now, John, looks like you might have the situation in hand.”

“I try, sir. They do get away from me sometimes.”

The sheriff laughs out loud at that. “John, I’m Charlie. That’s the way of boys, I suppose.” His eyes breeze over the table, looking at the family charts lying there. “I guess if you’re the kind of man I think you are, I might reconsider. I’d be happier if the boys stayed in the room, unless they’re out with you. Now, if you’ve got the time, I think I have a spare hour or two - might be able to ease your research.”

John sighs with relief. “I surely appreciate that, sir. And I’d take you up on that, but I do have a little matter that needs attending to, here,” he says, nodding back at Dean, and at the belt he’d transferred to his left hand.

The sheriff laughs again. “John, you’re a good man. Tell you what. Meet me up on the steps of city hall in about a half hour, and I’ll see that between there and the library, we can shorten your work so you can leave first thing in the morning.”

John lets a little more of the relief bleed through. “Charlie, that would be a fine thing, if you don’t mind.”

“My pleasure, father to father, John. I’ll see you in a while – take care of those boys, now.”

The door closes, and Sam sees the sheriff pause outside the door. He catches John’s eyes, and shakes his head slightly. John stalks back to Dean, bringing the belt down as he starts the lecture again, though his tone is somewhat calmer. Sam clears his throat as the sheriff pulls out of the lot, after another two strokes, and John threads his belt back into it’s loops. Sam is in awe – the lecture, the beating (all six swats of it)– John’s acting, acting a part to get them out of the trouble Dean landed them in, his performance flawless.

“I won’t apologize, Dean – you know damn well how important the research we do is. You heard me – you and Sam are confined to quarters unless you’re with me, and we’re out of here tomorrow morning. You’re damned lucky Sam got the library research mostly done yesterday. I’ll bring supper back at six, and not before, so if you boys are gonna be pissy with each other, get it over with.” He leaves Dean where he is, and comes over, gives Sam a hand to his feet, straightens the research, being sure he knows what he needs. He’s out the door in twenty mintues.

Dean slips his jeans back into place and turns around.

“Not one word, Sam,” he warns, and Sam smirks. He steps briskly over, grabs Dean, and presses into him, cock hard and throbbing, and kisses him – if his intent isn’t plain, he doesn’t know what the hell else to do.

“What the hell, Sam?”

“I can talk?”

“Maybe.”

“That has to be the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen – you in the corner with your ass on fire from that belt – god, he’s a better actor than both of us will ever be – I want to fuck you so bad, Dean…” He presses another kiss in.

“Dude, Dad-“

“Dad told us to work our frustrations out – and said he wouldn’t be back for like five hours.”

Realization blooms over Dean’s face, and suddenly he can’t get them out of their clothes fast enough, and Sam doesn’t have time to laugh, because he needs to get his hands all over the heat of Dean’s ass…

****

 _Ephesians 6:1-2.  
"Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honor thy father…”_


End file.
